


Keep Telling Yourself That [period]

by nottonyharrison



Category: Good Girls (TV)
Genre: Every Chapter Is A New Story, F/M, Prompt Fic, Short Stories, Vignettes, no ongoing narrative, there will probably be a lot of smut LBR
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2020-01-04 16:02:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18346988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nottonyharrison/pseuds/nottonyharrison
Summary: A selection of short stories and vignettes from tumblr prompts. Submit yours ontumblrThis is marked as complete as I don't really know how long I will continue this. Chances are there will be dribs and drabs however each chapter is a stand alone prompt so there is no need to follow a narrative.





	1. Prompt 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [cherylblossom-deadeye asked:](http://cherylblossom-deadeye.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Rio being jealous of someone he sees Beth with and showing it in a way that’s totally Rio

‘So you fucking the insurance guy now?”

Beth turns, and jabs the trowel into the ground where she had been weeding around the petunias. “ _Excuse me?”_

His cheek puffs out as he runs his tongue over his back teeth, and he frowns. “I said... are you fucking the insurance guy now.”

He’s standing a few yards away, looking down on her as she sits back on the dry grass and runs a gloved hand over her forehead.

“What insurance guy? _”_

He shoves his hands in his pockets and raises an eyebrow. “The cute one with the blond hair and the muscles.”

She thinks for a moment, and decides she’s angry. “Are you  _stalking_  me?” Rio purses his lips and she can see his hands balling against his thighs. “Because, you know, I thought we were past the whole creepy watching me in the middle of the night bullshit.”

She turns back to the flower bed and starts jabbing at the oxalis that’s taking over the flowers. It’s been a dry summer, the grass is rough on her knees and she regrets not bringing a pad to kneel on.

“Oh, baby that’s not stalking, that’s protecting my investment.”

“Yeah, well you keep telling yourself that.”

She hears the rustle of clothing, and figures he’s sat down next to her, but she doesn’t look over. The petunias are wilting and there are deadheads. it’s almost time to pull them out and cover the beds with mulch.

For the next minute or so here’s no sound other than the traffic going past, and the trowel digging in to the ground.  _Tsch, tsch, scrape, tsch, tsch._

And then there’s a hand on her neck, soft palms skimming over her skin, running over her shoulder until his fingers slide under her tank top and beneath her bra strap.

“His name is Dylan, and yes he is cute isn’t he?”

His whole arm tenses. “You enjoyin’ yourself? He give you what you need?”

She rolls her shoulders and lays down the garden tool before shrugging his hand off and turning to him. “Yeah... yeah he did.”

His lips are set in a hard line, and he’s moving to stand up again. She grabs his shirt and leans in until her mouth is millimeters away from his ear. “I mean... the way he handed me that old photo of our grandmother just really turned me on, you know?”


	2. Prompt 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anonymous asked:
> 
> I need a massage that turns sexy... preferably when they're not in an established relationship so they are like not expecting it. Does that make sense ?! Help. ❤️

She’s dreaming.

His hands are running down her back, and she’s digging her chin hard into the sofa cushions.

She’s dreaming.

His fingers are digging into her hips, And she’s dreaming.

She can feel his nails scraping over her skin as he flips his hands over and runs them up either side of her spine.

And suddenly she’s awake.

…

The day had been long, and she’s sending the last of the sales force home when he walks in, all swagger and long legs. She rolls her eyes and turns her eyes back to the sales data on her screen.

“You’ll get your money, now fuck off.” She can tell that he’s stopped in the doorway, and swears she can feel his eyes drilling into her creased forehead. She squints at the spreadsheet on the screen and huffs, pulling her glasses off and dropping them on the desk before rubbing at her temples and closing her eyes.

“I’m serious, please just get the hell out of my office I can’t with you right now.”

“Someone’s developing an attitude.”

She opens her eyes and glares at him. “Oh yeah, you know me so well.”

He pushes off the door frame and walks over to the desk, skimming the surface before walking behind her and running a hand up her neck and into her hair.

She freezes.

She’s dreaming.

Except she’s awake and his palm is hot against her scalp yet somehow she can feel a shiver fun up her spine.

His hand twists in her hair, and she can’t help but lean into it.

“I’m not here for the cash, I know you’re good for it.” His voice always does it for her, going straight to a place she hates to admit, and she shifts in her chair.

“You’re not exactly the social visit type.’

“Oh yeah, what makes you think that?”

“I don’t know, personal experience?” She turns around and the way her hair pulls makes her wince. Her narrowed eyes meet his, wide with false innocence. “You always have an agenda.”

“Oh yeah, what’s my agenda?” He’s let go of her hair now, trailing his fingers down her neck and gripping her chin.

“I don’t know.”

And then he’s turning her head back around and running his palms down her neck until they’re on her shoulders and his thumbs are digging in to her skin, moving in slow circles until her head drips and she lets out a long breath.

She’s dreaming.

…

She’s awake. She’s painfully awake.

…

Dean used to give her massages, when she was pregnant with Kenny. That was thirteen years ago now, and she hasn’t had one that wasn’t paid for since.

This is different than anything Dean ever gave, it’s not obligatory rub of the hands over swollen ankles, or a halfhearted back rub while she’s cooking dinner at eight and a half months along barely able to reach the faucet over her swollen belly.

It’s not the clinical choreography of the day spa.

This is burning warm skin, over tense muscle.

It’s a dream, like the half remembered fevered encounter in the bathroom a few weeks ago. It’s not happening because it’s not supposed to happen.

It’s not supposed to happen because she’s a good girl. She cooks and cleans and keeps her family together. She only does anything illegal because it’s for her kids.

He makes her feel ways that are illegal, against her moral code and against her carefully structured image. He’s bad for her. She knows he’ll probably kill her one day when she’s even more of a liability than she is now but then he’s turning her chair around and letting his hands trail down her front until they’re resting on her hips and she doesn’t care any more.

She doesn’t care any more because his hands are unbuttoning her pants, and she’s lifting her hips so he can pull them off and suddenly all thoughts of money and family and  _wrong_  are gone, and all she can think is  _ohhhhh._


	3. Prompt 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [deadlyladynightshade](http://deadlyladynightshade.tumblr.com/) asked:
> 
> Rio and Beth have an ugly fight where lots of stuff is said that may or may not be hurtful on both sides. Beth storms home and refuses to answer his texts or calls and he is forced to hunt her down a few days later. Beth, shaking with emotion: "I had one man keep me in the dark about things for YEARS, I will not go down this path again with you." Also: They still have not defined the relationship

_Swish… swish… swish.._

The wipers and the passing traffic are the only sound in the car for ten minutes, until it pulls into the driveway and Beth shoves the door open and gets out, slamming the door.

Then the only sound is his loud exclamation of  _fuck_  as he watches her storm to the front door and slam that too.

A light goes on upstairs.

He sits for a few moments and then drives off.

…

She’s driving down the freeway when it happens. First the dashboard goes dark, and then the headlamps go as well, so she pulls of onto the hard shoulder and pops the hood. She figures it’s just a fuse, but after five minutes of holding her phone with one hand and digging around behind the dash it starts to rain, and she gets back into the car.

She doesn’t call Dean, not wanting to disturb the kids so late at night. So she calls Ruby, and then Annie, but neither pick up.

She’s trying Ruby for the third time when a black Maserati pulls up behind her and someone steps out. It’s a man. She can’t tell if anyone else is in the car as the headlights are blinding her to the interior, so she locks the doors and hunkers down with the key in the ignition.

The figure in the mirror is a shadow against the LEDs, and her heart jumps as he puts his hand into his jacket pocket.

She lets out a long breath as she sees his illuminated face, and flicks the door lock. He walks around the front of the car and gets in the passenger side.

“Need a ride?”

“I forgot to renew my triple A.” He smiles and leans back against the headrest. She looks at him out of the corner of her eye and lets her phone drop into her lap. “Yeah, okay I need a ride.”

“I’ll call a tow, get it dropped off at the dealership.”

‘Alright.”

He leans over her and she shivers as his arm brushes hers. “Get out, I’ll take you home.”

“Yeah… Yeah okay.”

It’s not until they’re sitting in his car, all leather interior and soft blue lighting, that she stops and thinks for a moment.

“Wait… are you following me?”

He pulls out into traffic and doesn’t say anything. The cars go past like nothing has happened, and he makes a call to someone and asks them to move the van. “Yeah, yeah the gps I just sent you… I don’t know check your fucking google maps.”

“Are you  _tracking_ me?”

His hands grip the steering wheel a little tighter and he presses his lips together. “Ain’t no thing, ma. Just chill ok?”

“ _Chill?_  You’re watching everywhere I go on your goddamn phone and you want me to  _chill?”_

They down off at the exit and he doesn’t say anything for a few minutes. She can see his jaw twitching and his index finger is tapping against the wheel.

“Look, here’s the thing…” He glances at her briefly before turning his eyes back to the road. “We’re getting along right now, okay, but just ‘cos we’re in some kind of truce right now doesn’t mean I trust you.”

“you don’t trust me.” It’s not a question.

“Remember that time you got me arrested? ‘Cos I do.”

“ _You…_  don’t trust  _me.”_ She starts clawing at the door but it won’t open.

“What the fuck are you doing? The car’s moving.”

She puts her hands on her thighs and digs her fingers in. ‘Pull over.”

“No.”

“ _Pull over.”_

He slows down and pulls into a parking space outside of a strip mall. There’s only one traffic light working on the block, and she thinks twice about getting out of the car.

“What thinks you have the  _right_ –”

“I don’t know, Elizabeth.” His voice is loud in the small space, and he turns to her his back rigid and eyes burning. “I don’t know, what do you think gives me the right? That time you stole from me, or the time you lied about getting rid of you r little problem, or maybe that time you - and I’ve said this once already -  _got me arrested_ … because trust me I am still dealing with the fallout from that shit.”

So she gets out of the car and he does the same. She’s looking over the roof, arms gesturing as she shouts. “I didn’t deliberately steal from  _you_ , and everything else you’re all pissy about is a direct result of  _your_ activities,  _not_ mine. Take a fucking look at yourself and learn what a goddamn consequence is.”

His eyes go icy and she shivers as he starts walking around the bonnet.

“Get in the car.”

“No thanks, I’ll call an Uber.” He’s getting closer.

“Get in the car.”

He’s standing right in front of her now, close enough to touch but so far away. She shakes her head.

So he grabs her shoulder and pushes her in, and they don’t talk after that.

…

It’s weeks before she sees him again, and when she does he’s in her space and she doesn’t like it.

it’s eleven o’clock on a Sunday morning, and she’s sleeping in. there’s a knock on the french doors that lead to the yard. She huffs and sets her book down on the covers. She can see the outline of a figure behind the sheers and decides to ignore him. A minute or so later her phone pings.

_Can you please. Open the door._

She sighs and gets out of bed, puts on her slippers, and grabs her robe. She doesn’t open the door, just pushes back the curtain.

He’s holding two cups. “Your coffee’s going cold and it’s freezing out here.”

“You dug your hole, go lie in it.” She lets the curtain drop.

There’s a small thud, and she can see his outline sliding down the door, back leaning on the glass. She mirrors his position on the other side and sits down on the floor.

“I didn’t do it to hurt you.” His voice is a little muffled. “I just… what I do means I gotta keep on top of things, okay? And we both know you’re a bit of a liability.”

She bristles, but can feel resolve slipping.

“I know what you’re doing right now, you’re getting all incredulous and pissy but don’t pretend I’m not right.”

She picks at her fingernails and bites her lip.

“You were right.” There’s a pause and she can hear him taking a sip of his drink. “None of this wouldn’t have happened if I wasn’t who I am, but you’re the one who left your pearls on my doorknob so don’t pretend you don’t have a part to play in this too.”

He’s silent for a minute or so.

“Look, there’s something going on here. I know it and you know it, and who knows what the fuck it is because it’s insane but I miss you. Jesus, Elizabeth I  _want_ you and it’s driving me nuts.”

She sucks in an uneven breath, and her stomach drops.

“Tell me I’m lyin’.” His voice is husky and a bit quiet, and she hears a rustling and the shadow from the other side moves until she can see the light casting it across the bedroom floor.

She gets up and opens the door. He’s half way down the stairs but turns around when he hears the click of the latch. She’s shaking, and her voice cracks as she speaks. “I had one man keep me in the dark about things for YEARS, I will not go down this path again with you.”

“You sayin’ you wanna be partners?”

Beth pushes the door open wide and steps aside. “I’m willing to give it a try.”

_End._


	4. Prompt 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [sspoiler](http://sspoiler.tumblr.com) asked:
> 
> For your fanfic: Keep Telling Yourself That [period] • Buddy (the Bolands dog) being an unofficial cupid for Beth and Rio • Beth is addicted to Rio neck Eagle tattoo • A Bonnie and Clyde au

 

Buddy is outside when she gets home, tired and a little sweaty from the hot day. The door is open and she rolls her eyes at Dean’s carelessness, calling the dog in as she walks up the steps.

He bounds inside and heads straight to the kitchen.

“Hey, did you feed buddy? He was eating grass ag–”

Dean’s not the one standing in the kitchen. It’s Rio, and he’s feeding Buddy a piece of bacon.

“Oh hey, baby. What do you think, breakfast for dinner? I’m making waffles.”

Beth is frozen, eyes fixated on Rio’s profile as he bends down and lets buddy lick his tattoo. She balls her hands into fists and digs her nails into her palms, and focuses on keeping her voice even. “What are you doing here?”

He looks over, his eyes heavy lidded as he rubs the dog’s sides. “What, you don’t feel like waffles?”

And she knows…  _she knows_  she fell asleep parked in the driveway. She knows it’s a dream so she just goes with it, smiles, and decides to go wherever her subconscious takes her

“Where are the kids?”

She would swear she sees a moment of hesitation, but if it was there it’s gone before she can think too hard about it, and suddenly his smile is blinding. Like that moment in the car when he told her to tell Agent Turner they were fucking, and she feels a shiver run down her spine.

“Your husband took them out for Mickey Dees. I told him we had business to discuss.’

She takes a few steps closer and raises an eyebrow. “Oh yeah?”

‘Yeah.” Buddy pads behind him as he walks towards her. “I told him to take them mini golfing afterwards, you know keep them occupied until we’re done with the details.”

Buddy woofs and wags his tail.

Beth lifts her hand and trails her finger down his neck, tracing the eagle which is still slightly damp.

“I hope one of those details is cleaning the dog slobber off your neck.”

It’s like something changes in him, and the slightly calculating look is gone, and his eyes go dark. “You wanna help me with that?”

“You know what? I’m all sweaty I’m going to take a shower before those waffles.”

…

If it weren’t a dream, the way he undresses her in the mirror would make her self conscious. He’s standing behind her, hands slowly unbuttoning her shirt, lips on her neck, and she’s hot and sweaty in a completely different way.

And it’s when he moves his mouth to her ear and tells her he’s been thinking about fucking her again for  _weeks_  that she gives in and turns her head until they’re kissing. She’s kissing him like she’s been wanting to for months, open mouthed, a bit messy,  _hot._

And the noise he makes when he kisses her back is like nothing she’s ever heard before, low and gravelly. Something she never in a million years thought would be something that sets her off. But it does, it sets her off to the point of turning and tugging hard on his shirt buttons, tearing her hands through them until she’s smoothing them over his pecs, and running them up his neck until she can tug him down harder into her mouth.

She can feel her lips bruising, but she doesn’t care. She just lets him unbutton her jeans roughly and shove them to the ground as he bites down hard on her lip and abruptly pulls his head away.

She’s briefly disappointed... just for a moment. He sets himself to tugging his own jeans down and removing her bra. When what’s left of their clothes are added to the pile on the floor he stands up straight and looms over her for a moment. her eyes trail down his face to his neck, and slides her hand up his chest and wraps it around his neck, squeezing just a tiny bit.

He gulps, and she can feel his adams apple bob against her palm. “Get in the shower.” His voice is rough and she can feel it like gravel.

…

There are moments while his mouth and body are hard against hers, where she wonders briefly if maybe it’s not a dream, that the way he hums against her as he eats her out is just a little bit too real. The feeling deep inside her as he pushes her breasts hard into the tile in the shower is just a tiny bit too real, and she’s gasping and making a noise that she’s never made before as she tries to breathe.

The look in his eyes as she takes a washcloth to his neck before running her own tongue up the side of the eagle That’s definitely  _too real_. The way his head tips back as she chokes him just a tiny bit and pushes his head back into the spray of the water, and he grunts in this deeply satisfying way is  _vividly real_.

The softness he runs the towel over her body, and tugs at her earlobe with his teeth as he dries the soft skin under her breasts.

She can hear Buddy scratching at the door as she drifts off, and briefly considers letting him out.

But it’s a dream, right?

And when she startles awake an hour later, screams of the kids echoing down the hallway, and the feeling of a naked body pressfed hard into her back, she wonders how she could be so stupid.


	5. Prompt 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anonymous asked:
> 
> you may not be taking prompts anymore but hey ho lol. ‘Someone holds a gun up at Beth while she and Rio are at a drop, and Rio is less than pleased, and his worry for her life shocks him.’

Moments after the gun was digging into her cheek, all she can think about is the cold metal of the barrel, and the sick sound of bone breaking. Everything goes silent after that, and then there’s nothing but two sets of harsh breath against the quiet hum of the traffic coming from the freeway.

“You’re a fucking idiot, you know that?” His jaw flexes and she can see him grinding his teeth as he look down at her, but his eyes are soft and his expression is tinged with something she can’t put her finger on

She’s shaking, the adrenaline crash has hit and she’s struggling to stay stoic. “Yeah, well someone has to do your goddamn job for you,” she says, holding his gaze and jabbing at his chest to hid her fragility.

He grabs her wrist and pushes it back down to her side. As he runs the other hand up her neck and into her hair, she shivers and scolds herself internally for being so weak.

“You think you can play this game? That you’re a bad bitch who’s going to run this turf?” His face is so close to hers she can feel his breath against her cheek. His lip is curled in a sneer. “It ain’t that simple, sweetheart. You gotta know how to play the game.”

“You worried about me?” She turns her head away from him, but his hand stays still and she feels her hair tug at the follicles. It hurts, and she bites her lip, surprised at the shot of lightning that runs down her back.

She hears his lips rub together. “Yeah so what if I am?” His voice is low and rough.

“So you’re the only person allowed to hold me at gunpoint now? Is this a monopoly that you have on me?” She raises her hands to her head and pulls his fingers out of her hair. “Yeah I’m not cool with that.”

He runs a finger down her cheek and tilts her face until his eyes are on hers and she squirms, uncomfortable under the heated gaze.

“I don’t trust you.”

She snorts. “Yeah, well that’s pretty obvious.”

His thumb is rubbing against her cheek now, and she desperately wants to lean into his hand. She doesn’t need to think about it too hard because the next thing she knows his lips are on hers, and she’s drowning.

She’s tumbling over rapids, his lips and teeth mashing hard into hers, and then he’s latching on to her lower lip and she’s gone. Her hands are around his neck, pulling him hard down towards her, and he’s pressing her back into the car door until she can feel his cock hard against her hip.

He pulls away for a moment, hands bracketing her cheeks and forces her to look at him.

“Don’t ever...  _ever_  do that again, okay?”


End file.
